


Lipstick and Powder

by femmenerd



Series: Sadie 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-02
Updated: 2007-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1300558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenerd/pseuds/femmenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP-ish outtake from "Take It As It Comes."  An expansion upon this line from that fic: </p><p> </p><p>  <i>On nights when she's going out, standing in front of the mirror putting on lipstick and powder, he wants to make her late, wants to go down on her with her party dress rucked up–make her come without screwing with her make-up.</i></p><p>Originally posted on LJ <a href="http://femmenerd.livejournal.com/195296.html">[here].</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lipstick and Powder

Sadie has rituals. Sam's learning them still. He's known her longer than anyone else besides Dean, but this is the first time he's _lived_ with her, shared space with anyone really in forever. 

Like with her tea–she does that bobbing thing with the tea bag, always exactly ten times counting under her breath, then she takes it out and plops it in the trash. Then sugar, then milk. In that order precisely. And she gets annoyed with Sam if he leaves his tea bags in the sink. When he was just an occasional visitor she never said.

She's going out with her friends tonight, to a play or poetry reading or something artsy-fartsty like that. Sam's got to study and he's dorkily excited about it–more than a decade since he was last a student and books and classes seem fresh and new again, normal. Even if they are night classes this time, and he still goes hunting from time to time. 

He has his books laid out, pencils sharp. Sam's not using them yet though; he's sitting back against the plethora of brightly colored pillows on Sadie's bed– _their bed_ now. He's been staring intently as she rolls up stockings over dimpled knees, crazy complicated pattern knit ones that are more elegant than the ripped up fishnets she wore when they were kids. Dress over her head, then she does her hair, humming with bobby pins in her mouth. Lipstick, powder, eyeshadow in colors that seem insane at first but always look right when she's done. Sam learned a long time ago to stop questioning the artistry or intent behind these proceedings.

Sadie's about to step into her shoes when Sam stands up, walks up behind and crowds her, down low so he can whisper into the soft spot where neck meets ear. "Baby," he says experimentally, tasting the word in his mouth. 

Sadie snorts, smiling into the mirror at their reflection. "Cheeseball," she says, and hugs his arms tighter around her. "You've never called me that before."

"You've never been _my girl_ before."

She rolls her eyes up to the ceiling but blushes, flushes more like. 

"Baby," he repeats, catching her earlobe between his teeth. She wriggles into him, whines in her throat. "I want to lick you."

Sadie starts to melt backwards, but then she straightens up and turns around, detaching herself and laughing with hands held palm out. "Sam Winchester!" she says, and points to the elaborate sculpture on top of her head. "Do you see this? I've got to be out the door in like two minutes or I'm gonna be late."

"Just...let me. I won't mess you up, I promise," he says and crosses himself, kneeling in front of her.

"You're not Catholic either," Sadie squeaks in neutral protest, but places her hands on top of his head. 

Sam lifts her skirt and fumbles his head and shoulders underneath, breathing in woman-smell and soap, the talcum powder on her legs. Draws her panties down by the strings; they're red and don't match her bra, he knows. No preliminaries, he finds her clit with the tip of his tongue and circles aggressively, shifting to an up-and-down, hard flutter as her thighs quake jerkier. She comes quickly, salt-wet on his lips, and Sam slides her underwear back up into place. 

"Told you," Sam says smugly once he's stood back up. Sadie's cheeks are pinker than the blush she no longer wears. He taps two fingers to his pursed lips and extends them to hers, traces of lipstick sticking to his fingertips. She breathes out heavily and shoots him a lopsided grin. Touches her hair. 

"Have a good time," he adds, and settles back on the bookstrewn bed as she teeters into her heels. "I'll be here." 

*****


End file.
